whatsacactus | (no subject)

[Well, it doesn't seem like it's anything dangerous. Shiro just lets himself be lead along. Keith's enthusiasm is obvious and saying, I never knew you thought so highly of flowers is on the tip of his tongue.

He doesn't say it. He just trails after him, and when he sees this quiet, closed-off part of the garden he says nothing at all. Just takes it all in.

Even knowing what tainted it, that doesn't make it any less a wonder. The water is still clear, and Shiro steps past the bench to drag his hand through it. It's wonderfully chilled, and he just knows it would be all right to drink as well.]

It's beautiful.

[Once upon a time, this place must have carried meaning for two people very much in love. An ache settles in his chest, though he couldn't say why.]

[The sound of the water trickling softly is mesmerizing. It's relaxing. He's still hurting, he's still sore, but the tension eases out as he backs up to sit on the bench. He's careful not to disturb more than he has to.]

It's the only place we've seen so far that's this well kept.

[And it's true. The hedge around the area is well trimmed, freshly watered. The flowers peeking through are arranged aesthetically, just so.

But it's clear, his eyes are full of awe. Even if this place isn't meant for them, he appreciates it. He likes it.]

[Keith is looking at their surroundings. Shiro... Shiro is just watching him enjoy it. He can't really appreciate something that belonged to Zarkon the way Keith can. He's always been the more utilitarian of the two of them. Capable of stripping something down, divorcing it from its original purpose and finding something new and beautiful in it.

If Shiro had to guess, he'd say it came from being in group homes. Never being given anything new, nothing that was truly yours. He had to learn to appreciate what he had no matter where it was from. Found or stolen.

He's older, but he hasn't changed much. That same little kid that Shiro ended up looking after is still in there somewhere.

He looks away.]

There must be bots dedicated to servicing just this one area, then. Stands to reason this was an important place.

[He nods, not looking away from the fountain.]

Yeah... Probably.

Wonder what it looks like at night...

[No doubt it's beautiful in the dark too. He watches it a minute longer before getting back to his feet.]

Anyway, the-- The storeroom. Back that way, there was a lot of fresh food.

We can come back after dark.

[He makes it an event, something the two of them can do together. It's only after he says it that he realizes Keith might be happier coming alone.

Well. Too late now. Instead, Shiro just nods and heads back to the storeroom. Once he knows Keith has followed him--]

You know, I recognize a lot of this-- I think some of it's Altean, but this-- isn't this something we found on the Olkari planet? And these are Balmeran cave bugs.

[But they're definitely meant for eating, they've been dried out and placed in jars. Shiro makes a bit of a face at them - bugs really aren't his thing.]

[He nods, picking up one of the jars. He's not averse to bugs; alone in the desert for a year, you learn to eat what you can.]

I recognized some of it too. We can stock up on this and bring it back in, figure out how to use it best.

[He's already pulling things into a pile closer to the door. Once it's bigger than what he can manage in his arm, he looks around, then wheels over a small push-cart.]

Shiro-- there's a lot here. How much do you want to grab?

[He shrugs.]

Enough for a few days. We shouldn't need more than that.

[But he dumps what he'd selected onto the push-cart anyway. He doesn't want to be wasteful, but there's also no one out here using this stuff. They might as well take whatever looks interesting and either eat it or not at their discretion. Some of the Altean food they can bring to Allura-- he imagines she would love to have seeds for the edible Altean plants, or perhaps Juniberries again.]

Hunk would probably want some of this too.

[So more than a few days. Enough to at least propagate and get seeds from. He gathers a little more than they really need for just that. Before long, they've got a variety of different fruits, vegetables, and Keith insists on bringing the jarred bugs as well. Protein, he'd suggest.

He leads them back to the main house, a much better mood than he'd started with. He did something useful, and saw something beautiful. A bit of Galra heritage that hadn't been marred by war, and Zarkon's twisted desire for control of everything.]

This'll be good.

Now here's the real question.

[He sounds absolutely, deadly serious. Pay Attention, Keith.]

Do either of us know how to cook any of this in a way that won't potentially kill us both?

[Because, uh, the breakfast goop was really his best attempt.]

I've got a few ideas.

[He smiles knowingly; that time spent with his mother was well spent. She took the time to teach him a lot of things while she had the chance, and what she couldn't teach he saw in her memories. He's sure he can replicate most of it.]

I'll see what I can do later. What else do we need?

Let's just start with this for now. It's not like it's miles away.

[Just a short walk. As they step back out onto the path back to the room, Shiro glances up at the sky. It smells like rain, but there aren't any clouds. He supposes it could just be the misting from the bots throwing him off. There are more of them out now, tending to a greater variety of things. Maybe their arrival set them off.]

[He notices the uptick in bots too. Likely both their arrival, and Keith activating everything at once. He just rolls the cart right into the kitchen and doesn't bother with it for now. He can look at it all later.]

Well, we need a place to sleep. There are rooms, beds. Still need to find a comm system.

[There's something on the edge of his thought, like hair standing on end. Something in the weather is changing, but he isn't sure. He doesn't know this planet. He doesn't know the cycles here. Could be nothing.]

Could probably stand to find some more medical supplies.

Edited 2018-06-22 04:15 (UTC)

[Galra medical supplies. His skin crawls at the thought. Part of him still hopes they'll luck out and find a healing pod somewhere on the premises.]

I hate to say it, but the upper floor is the most defensible in case of an attack by ground troops. But if we're worried about ships-- we should check to see if there's a basement.

[Or, you know. A bunker.]

Why 'hate'?

[The question is out of his mouth before he thinks to stuff it down. He'd still like to know, but now probably isn't the best time.]

Nevermind, let's figure out beds.

[He's still exhausted. He's still only had about four hours of sleep since they got Shiro back. He's been fighting through sheer curiosity, but his feet are dragging as they get up the stairs. His whole body feels heavy after the initial excitement of everything, the emotions he's gone through in the last twenty four hours.]

I...Think I'll grab this one.

[He sort of looks at what amounts to a lounging couch in the open loft area before slowly crawling onto it.]

[boy, you are still covered in fruit goop and nonsense you're filthy how can you even want to sleep.

(but Shiro's been that tired before, too. He gets it.)

So he lets Keith go, and rummages around until he finds a decent and clean-smelling blanket. When he returns to the couch, Keith is already asleep. He's curled on himself, protecting his injured side and Shiro just... frowns, softly, looking down at him.

Old instinct has him lean down and press the back of his wrist to Keith's forehead. He's always run a little hot - a Galra thing, he now realizes - but it doesn't seem like a fever. Then he simply drapes the blanket over him.

He doesn't want to go far away, so he drags the nearby armchair over closer to the couch, puts his feet up on the armrest of the couch and is himself asleep in moments once he sits down. It's telling, perhaps, that he's positioned himself between Keith and the door.]

[It doesn't take long after that for Shadow to come to them, trying to work her way onto the couch with Keith, but ultimately takes to curling up on the floor around them both.

It's been a while since he dreamed so vividly, particularly about his heritage. But before, where the nightmares were an uncertain fear, now they're a certainty. It may have been momentary, but he knows in that fight he was changing. He doesn't know how far he changed or how obvious it was, but it was enough. His dreams are deep, pained. Dark shadows whispering to him worse fears now than he had at the Trials.

He'd saved Shiro, but at the cost of hurting himself further. He doesn't know what Haggar wanted with so many clones of his friend. He doesn't know what happened to the ones on the station, if she had more elsewhere being used. And he has no way of knowing while they're stranded.

There's an anger, a resentment to his dreams, at himself. He physically curls up tighter under the blanket with quiet noises. Soft whispers, begging. Whether it's the dream or having taken so long to clean his injuries, Keith is sweating, and Shadow is up and unsure, butting against Shiro's leg before pawing at Keith.]

[He hasn't really slept well at any point in recent memory. Garrison barracks weren't exactly a bastion of privacy, and although Shiro got into the soldiering habit of being able to sleep anywhere, any time - especially after a hard day - it's maintaining that sleep he always had difficulty with. In captivity, he barely slept at all, committing himself to either the maintenance of his body or the protection of the other, weaker prisoners. And by the time he had his own room on the lion, eschewing sleep had simply become a way of life. He didn't do much of it, and never deeply.

He's already awake and rubbing at his eyes as Shadow butts against his leg. He drops a hand down against her head with a murmured easy, girl before he shifts his attention to Keith. The way he's whimpering, what words Shiro can make out damn near break his heart, and his expression is etched with open, honest grief. But he can't prioritize mental upset over physical wellbeing, not when it's very likely that Keith's injuries - more serious than he'd let on, no doubt - have taken a turn for the worst.

What parts of him are visible are flushed with fever, and Shiro mentally curses himself as he gets up out of the chair. There's plenty of room on the couch and Keith's barely taking up half of it with how tightly he's contorted himself into a little ball of misery. Shiro sets his hand against Keith's side. What had before been a pleasant warmth is now a highgrade burn he can feel emanating through the blanket.]

Keith. Easy-- easy. Wake up, buddy. Come on, I need you here.

[He's falling. Falling into heat, to nothingness, to angry whispers and pleas that Keith hadn't done enough. They were falling at the end, weren't they? It had been his fault. If he'd stuck around, if he'd not left, he would have seen the signs sooner.

There's a weight on his side, burning against his skin and he jerks with a gasp, still feeling like he's in freefall for a moment, trying to catch himself but... he's not. He's on his side, indoors. Hard to breathe, that wasn't different, but he shakily looks up.]

Shiro?

Hey. I've got you.

[He keeps his tone low, quiet, and reaches up to brush Keith's damp hair back from his forehead.]

You've got a fever. One of your injuries must be infected.

[They don't want to worry about bringing the temperature down yet, right now it's just a sign his immune system is doing its job. But if he gets worse--

They really do need to see if this place has more medical supplies. And he needs a better look at those injuries so he can isolate the one causing the problems and treat it. If nothing else, maybe there's some sort of plant he can use. Hoverva was a scientist, she must have kept a variety of things on hand.]

[He can tell he's still tired, the way Shiro's voice sort of warbles in his ears. But he understands. He likely didn't tend to his injuries soon enough. It's hard to remember back clearly and determine which one it was.

He nods, breathing hard through his mouth and tries to roll onto his back.]

I'll-- I'll take care of it.

[Shiro has his own problems. Keith's used to dealing with this on his own.]

Keith. We're a team. We look after each other, good and bad, all right?

[And you are an absolute idiot if you think Shiro's going to let you take care of yourself when you're this badly off. He shouldn't have let Keith handle the wounds on his own to begin with, he always has had a perilous disregard for his personal health and safety.]

Now c'mon. I can't carry you. Let's get you into the bathroom. I need you out of your flight suit.

[There's an irritated noise he swallows down in his throat, doesn't dare let it out. He knows he's too tired to win this. Instead, he uses the energy to pull himself up to sit, head against Shiro's shoulder for a minute not even thinking.

Get his breath. Breathe.

Another minute working up to it and he carefully swings his feet to the floor to stand. A little shaky, but he makes it.]

...Bathroom, right?

[He supports him as best he can, tucking Keith in against his good side and wrapping his arm around him. He barely feels like he weighs anything at all, and he's so hot it's almost scalding.]

I just wanna look you over. Maybe get you a shower.

[He nods and starts to the bathroom. Thankfully it's one of the only two doors on this floor so it's not hard to remember which. He hadn't appreciated before how big the whole bathroom actually is, but now with the both of them in there and how hot he feels, he can't help but notice it doesn't feel crowded.

He sits heavy on the side of the tub to get his breath. Just a second. Just-- a minute for him to breathe before he starts working out of the suit. It's rough underneath - a black and purple pattern of bruises, strips of gauze and tape over gashes that bled through before that sleep. There's a clear problem around his rib area on his back; he'd slammed and crashed into the different railings on the outpost so many times during that fight, was slammed against the floor with his and Shiro's weight. Its discoloration is the worst by far.

He sort of kicks the suit away when he gets it to his ankles, sitting there sweating in just his boxers and looks up at Shiro.]

Edited 2018-06-22 15:56 (UTC)

[Each bruise and contusion, each scrape and scar has its own counterpart mapped out on Shiro's skin. He remembers the fight the way one remembers a dream. Some things are knife sharp and cut the psyche, some are already fading into darkness.

Shiro knows that he - his clone - didn't hold back. But Keith did.

His expression is shuttered. No time for self-pity or admonition. Keith needs him in the here and now.

He checks him over with military brusqueness, gentle but efficient as he peels back bandages and checks the skin for heat. The source of the infection is a deep cut (the Galra hand) that made it past the armour and got Keith against the shoulder blade. Not deep enough to score the bone but the skin is jagged and inflamed. He climbed like this.

Shiro sets his jaw.]

Stay here. I'm going to get the last of the antisceptic. This needs to be cleaned and stitched up or at least taped closed.

[He keeps his voice steady. He isn't about to take his anger and frustration out on Keith.

He leaves him as comfortable as possible and sweeps the house. Things get upturned, drawers dumped out on the floor with increasing frantic desperation.

Downstairs, he finds it. A box of Altean and Galra medical supplies - out of date even compared to the Castle, but better than nothing. Self adhering bandages and a bottle he recognizes as their form of antibiotics. Whether or not it will work on Keith after thus long is another thing entirely. He gathers it up under his arm and heads back upstairs, skidding on the bathroom in his haste.]

Hey. I found some things. Let's get that shoulder clean.